


Only If You Mean It

by electrictoes



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-16
Updated: 2011-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 08:28:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28935537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrictoes/pseuds/electrictoes
Summary: Even on Valentine's Day it's better to mean what you say.
Relationships: Jack Harkness/Ianto Jones





	Only If You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Livejournal

**Title:** Only If You Mean It  
**Character(s)/Pairing(s):** Jack/Ianto  
**Rating:** PG  
**Spoilers:** None.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing. Property of the BBC, etc. etc. ad nauseum. Except y'know, I pay my licence fee.  
**Summary:** Even on Valentine's Day it's better to mean what you say.  
**Note(s):** Written for [](https://jack-ianto-las.livejournal.com/profile)[**jack_ianto_las**](https://jack-ianto-las.livejournal.com/) Challenge 2: Valentine's Day.

The trouble with Valentine’s Day was that it just sort of crept up on you. Nobody gave it a second thought and then, without warning, it was mid-February and a Tesco checkout lady was looking at your flower-and-chocolate-less basket, nodding knowingly at the bottles of beer you were putting out onto the checkout and saying, ‘No Valentine this year then, love?’

Ianto Jones had not expected his Monday to end like that. He had been vaguely aware that Valentine’s Day might be creeping up - you couldn’t walk down Queen Street without a barrage of heart shaped balloons or an explosion of pink adverts blocking your path – but though Ianto kept up with the calendar as best he could, 14th February had not automatically come with “I need to buy useless, tacky symbols of my affection and shower Jack in the them.”

And so he had dressed, washed, shaved, driven to work, organised paperwork, caught a few aliens, done some archiving, caffeinated Jack and Gwen and fed the pterodactyl, all without realising that the day held any romantic significance. And now here he was, in Tesco, with a middle aged woman smiling an almost sympathetic smile as she bagged two pints of milk, four bottles of beer and a packet of M&Ms.

He realised that she was still smiling that pitying smile, still expecting a response to her assumption about his love life. He pulled out his credit card, and as he waited for the card reader to ask for his pin he looked up at the woman. “It’s Valentine’s Day?” he asked, trying to sound genuine.

“Yes,” the woman replied, looking confused. Ianto put in his pin.

“Ah,” he said. “Forgot.”

That was as far as he was going to let the conversation go, he could see a questioning look in the woman’s eye, she was no doubt wondering if he had some poor girlfriend he’d forgotten to declare his undying love for that morning.

Ianto’s purchases bagged and paid for, he gave the checkout lady a false smile and headed back out to the car, sliding in beside Jack and dropping the bottles to the floor between his feet.

“Okay?” Jack asked.

Ianto nodded, and Jack started the car as he buckled his seatbelt. Ianto wondered if Jack knew that it was Valentine’s Day, but it was unlikely, so he opted not to mention it, and they drove to Ianto’s flat in a comfortable silence.

Valentine’s Day had all but slipped from Ianto’s mind by late evening. They had ordered Chinese to be delivered to the flat and spent the night sprawled out on a sofa each, takeaway, beer and bad television being their main preoccupation, tired as they were.

Ianto found himself drifting off to sleep on the sofa, and he forced his eyes to open when he heard movement. He glanced up at Jack through lidded eyes, watching him drain the last of his beer bottle before walking from the room. Ianto let his eyes fall shut, listening to the clinking of glass as Jack fussed about in the kitchen and the quiet thrum of the television. A newsreader was reminding him in solemn tones of their misspent weekend, recounting for those who had avoided newspapers and the television over the weekend the ‘toxic waste spillage’ that had occurred in Merthyr in the early hours of Sunday morning.

Jack returned to the living room a few minutes later, just as the reporter moved on to a fluffy piece about a couple who had been married seventy years that day.

“A Valentine’s Day to remember, that was,” the elderly woman being interviewed was saying. “Things were different back then, but oh-”

Ianto tuned her out. Jack was leaning in the doorway, half watching the television, half watching Ianto. He gave a small smile when Ianto turned to look at him, then nudged his head towards the bathroom.

“I’m going for a shower,” Jack said. “If you want to join me.”

Ianto nodded, and pushed himself up from the sofa He glanced around at their mess, deciding to move it out of the living room while Jack got the shower going. He flicked the television off as the Valentine’s story ended, then carried their empty bottles into the kitchen.

He placed them on the kitchen counter to recycle later and was about to flick off the light when he noticed an envelope leaning against his coffee machine. It was plain, white, and had Ianto’s name written on it in Jack’s unmistakeable script.

Ianto lifted the envelope, opening it and pulling out a card.

It wasn’t a Valentine’s card. It was white, blank but for the words ‘Thank You’ in a bold, black script across the centre. Ianto raised an eyebrow as he opened the card.

Jack hadn’t written a message, just signed his name.

But Ianto understood what he was saying.

Valentine’s Day was something that just crept up once in a while, but _thank you_ meant almost as much as _I love you_ did. And, Ianto thought as he slipped the card back into the envelope and made his way to the bathroom, the difference between Jack’s card and the thousands upon thousands of other cards that people had opened that day was that Jack really meant it.


End file.
